Ama noral'belore
Saved by the sun
Written on the inside cover of the journal:
I really overdid it last night, celebrating the small victory that I was able to grab for some of the townsfolk here in Goldshire. I don't even remember crawling into my bed last night, so I must have had way too much to drink of this watery swill. The letter that they left me told me that if I was going to go on adventures worth experiencing, they'd need to be written down. I think I agree, but only to a point. I will write for the sake of bridging the gap - to speak to you again. We were supposed to start training together and I was going to become strong enough so that you could retire, rest easy, and enjoy the beautiful meadows of Quel'thalas to their full measure. The pain runs thick through my veins, the nauseating feeling of always feeling empty, but I think of you and how much you must have had to endure for the sake of all of us, and I will not let this hunger consume me. I swear upon our promise that I will remain steadfast and one day I will stand before you as a swordsman you can be proud of and grant you the hero's burial you deserve. I will live for the both of us and honor your memory, my inspiration - the guiding hand behind my sword. Please, wherever you are: watch over me and I hope I make you proud. Make no mistake, I will live up to your legacy and surpass you. One day.
Entry 1: A Town of Beginnings, Elwynn Forest, 623KC:
For the last few days I've remained in Lion's Pride Inn, waiting for someone to reply to the listing I had sent to Stormwind with one of the traders passing through. I see the time given to me as a blessing, as I'm finding it a little more difficult to recover on my own. It pains me to think in such a way, but our reliance was turned against us so easily by an adversary of overwhelming force and power - truly no one in the world could have responded to such a threat and yet it still lingers just beyond our vision. A terrible thought. Rather than try my hand at any of the local job listings that were put up throughout Goldshire, I instead tried to get to know the locals and understand their way of life. The quaint calmness of the small town was refreshing. I was surprised by the lack of guardsmen from Stormwind, and could tell that it made the locals uncomfortable. I tried to look as competent and reliable as possible with my sword, but I believe the scraps of chain that I call armor might not do much for me in that regard. What was most embarrassing was the blacksmith noticing chains falling off of my mail vest, offering to do some slight repairs in exchange for my lending a hand with moving things around his shop. When your life consists of these simple pleasures and problems, it's so hard to imagine the world ablaze.
Andrew Krighton, the armorsmith, has quite the ear for information. With all the traffic that passes through Goldshire, he's keen to leaving the smith open to as many travelers as possible that want to stop in so long as they don't cause a problem. He's said he learned of all sorts of different tales and interesting bits of information that way. He spoke of a traveler that had come through recently from Duskwood, saying that he had encountered a beautiful elven woman with the body of a doe - while I've heard of dryads in stories and tales, I never thought I'd get to see one without traveling back to the untamed lands of Kalimdor. Just the same, he spoke of the legendary Stormwind Knights and their masterful ability on horseback and how they were capable of routing entire bands of orcs without pause. The perspectives of these humans are fascinating and they have made me begin to think of the world differently. In Quel'thalas, I would have never had this opportunity - to work and speak with a human as if we are kin. In the melting pot of Stormwind's kingdom, all of us - no matter our background - can be family. Perhaps the elves can learn a thing or two from our human allies, as too many of my own House-gatherings have turned into a comedy of squabbling. I recall some of the mountaineers from Ironforge that aided our arrival in Loch Modan to mention their own families being the same way, but looking forward to it. Rowdy and hearty, the Bronzebeard Dwarves have truly surprised my kin with their good nature and warm hearths.
If only their good nature and empathy were enough to remove the rot in my kinsmen's hearts. The hearthfolk of Ironforge have been nothing but kind and endearing, but too many of my people are locked in the horrors of the fall. Some days I struggle to find the strength to crawl out of bed, as I think of what more I could have done - what all we could have done more. King Anasterian Sunstrider and the Convocation of SIlvermoon stood at the Sunwell awaiting the arrival of that devil. My own blood greeted him before royalty, my pride swells knowing that he did not falter to fear while so many of us are still buckling under its weight. If I'm not careful, I can still feel that impossible cold that swept through the forests like a mist and gripped hold of my heart. Indescribable agony, my inspiration, is what you were spared from feeling in the wake of the Sunwell. I pray to all that is good in the world that you did not suffer, that you do not still suffer under that creature's thrall. Were that the case, it would not be enough to simply seek your sword and see it returned to elven hands but so too would I embark on a crusade to free you from your torment. The spark of life, the happiness of a blissful day are gifts that you, that we will leave for the next generation of elves. While I'm not like you, I'll never be a hero, I will lead my life under the guidance you left behind. Maybe once all of my labors are seen through I can retire and do as you wished to do, roam the Thalassian glades and savor all the beauty that our home had to offer. I have time: I will see it done, have faith in me.
Since it's just you and I, I have to confess that you were wrong in regards to humans. From your adventures to the human lands, before I have begun to understand them, you spoke of them as ugly little apes that are graceless in stride and incapable of properly stringing a bow. While I won't argue that they've lumbering feet and act with all the grace of a drunk troll, they are the furthest thing from ugly little apes. Too often I have caught myself needing an excuse to look over my shoulder or check the horizon, as they are just as wonderful leaving my view as they are entering it. While quel'dorei women are a refined beauty honed through aesthetic choice and whatever else it is that they prattle on about, human women are a beautiful mistake. There are still beautiful things to behold in this world, fortunately for all of us.
Your sacrifice may have left the world less bright, but I will do what I can to ensure that light doesn't completely go out. At least not until a hero comes along to truly carry your torch.
Andrew Krighton, the armorsmith, has quite the ear for information. With all the traffic that passes through Goldshire, he's keen to leaving the smith open to as many travelers as possible that want to stop in so long as they don't cause a problem. He's said he learned of all sorts of different tales and interesting bits of information that way. He spoke of a traveler that had come through recently from Duskwood, saying that he had encountered a beautiful elven woman with the body of a doe - while I've heard of dryads in stories and tales, I never thought I'd get to see one without traveling back to the untamed lands of Kalimdor. Just the same, he spoke of the legendary Stormwind Knights and their masterful ability on horseback and how they were capable of routing entire bands of orcs without pause. The perspectives of these humans are fascinating and they have made me begin to think of the world differently. In Quel'thalas, I would have never had this opportunity - to work and speak with a human as if we are kin. In the melting pot of Stormwind's kingdom, all of us - no matter our background - can be family. Perhaps the elves can learn a thing or two from our human allies, as too many of my own House-gatherings have turned into a comedy of squabbling. I recall some of the mountaineers from Ironforge that aided our arrival in Loch Modan to mention their own families being the same way, but looking forward to it. Rowdy and hearty, the Bronzebeard Dwarves have truly surprised my kin with their good nature and warm hearths.
If only their good nature and empathy were enough to remove the rot in my kinsmen's hearts. The hearthfolk of Ironforge have been nothing but kind and endearing, but too many of my people are locked in the horrors of the fall. Some days I struggle to find the strength to crawl out of bed, as I think of what more I could have done - what all we could have done more. King Anasterian Sunstrider and the Convocation of SIlvermoon stood at the Sunwell awaiting the arrival of that devil. My own blood greeted him before royalty, my pride swells knowing that he did not falter to fear while so many of us are still buckling under its weight. If I'm not careful, I can still feel that impossible cold that swept through the forests like a mist and gripped hold of my heart. Indescribable agony, my inspiration, is what you were spared from feeling in the wake of the Sunwell. I pray to all that is good in the world that you did not suffer, that you do not still suffer under that creature's thrall. Were that the case, it would not be enough to simply seek your sword and see it returned to elven hands but so too would I embark on a crusade to free you from your torment. The spark of life, the happiness of a blissful day are gifts that you, that we will leave for the next generation of elves. While I'm not like you, I'll never be a hero, I will lead my life under the guidance you left behind. Maybe once all of my labors are seen through I can retire and do as you wished to do, roam the Thalassian glades and savor all the beauty that our home had to offer. I have time: I will see it done, have faith in me.
Since it's just you and I, I have to confess that you were wrong in regards to humans. From your adventures to the human lands, before I have begun to understand them, you spoke of them as ugly little apes that are graceless in stride and incapable of properly stringing a bow. While I won't argue that they've lumbering feet and act with all the grace of a drunk troll, they are the furthest thing from ugly little apes. Too often I have caught myself needing an excuse to look over my shoulder or check the horizon, as they are just as wonderful leaving my view as they are entering it. While quel'dorei women are a refined beauty honed through aesthetic choice and whatever else it is that they prattle on about, human women are a beautiful mistake. There are still beautiful things to behold in this world, fortunately for all of us.
Your sacrifice may have left the world less bright, but I will do what I can to ensure that light doesn't completely go out. At least not until a hero comes along to truly carry your torch.
Entry 2: A New Ally, Stoke the Fires of Resolve, Elwynn Forest, 623KC:You should sharpen your sword after stabbing four murlocs or as soon as you can. Their flesh is wet, viscous, and will coat your blade in their mucous. I watched a young paladin lose his hand today.
After a good night's rest in Lion's Pride Inn, I was informed that someone had come into town seeking me in response to the party request I sent on to Stormwind. I was honestly shocked to hear that someone had replied, having heard that quel'dorei were developing something of a reputation for being unreliable in their weakness. Many of us are starting to struggle more and more as we over-exert ourselves, trying to do things as we did when under the full blessing of the Sunwell and it just doesn't work. Our stamina gives out before our spirits do, leaving a frustrating imbalance of passion and drive but the physical incapability to continue. It's been hard staying in such a big town and trying to ignore the whispers and the townsfolk all chattering about the most recent rumors, especially that of dying elves. It seems that every few days there's word of another elf that fell victim to some danger out in Elwynn, either due to their own recklessness or some other unfortunate circumstance. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been nervous about setting out into the forest and seeking to take care of some of the posted bounties and requests throughout town. There is some justice to the world, however, as my prayers were answered in the form of the one that answered my request: Areia Silverlock.
She did not speak much about herself, only that she came from Lordaeron and understood the pain of the quel'dorei unlike the humans of Stormwind. I could see the pain in her eyes and how she must have endured equally horrible experiences in the aftermath of that bastard's attacks, just as we had. Some of my kind has taken to thinking the Lordaeron people are patronizing with their attempts at empathy, as how could a human understand the emotional depth of an elf? Our art spans centuries and the allegories of our dramas recount millennia-ancient events to impart wisdom in ways that will never be lost, so how could they? I have seen it, firsthand. Humans, dwarves, and all others I have spoken to have had their hearts break listening to the tales of the elves and they shatter further upon the grief-stricken aggression from some of my kin. I can see clearly that Areia is someone that feels deep compassion and has an air of tenacity that would put many of my own people to shame. It's inspiring in ways that only you have been able to do. She seems undaunted, incapable of even beginning to fathom a day that she doesn't pick herself up off the ground and really, truly try.
If she is to be my new adventuring companion, I am blessed to have been granted a muse.
Before I forget to recount it, I had the dream again last night. You were there, standing before a crowd of people wearing your decorated armor. It's almost impossible to put into words how you looked before the crowd, sword in hand. It made me feel something that I had nearly forgotten and now I can truly put into words: safety. It reminded me of the safety I felt when I first learned of the elfgates and their protective power. With that sword in hand, you were basically a living elfgate for the people of Quel'thalas, and that is something that our people will likely not feel for a long time to come. Shortly after you spoke words of praise to the Sunstriders, present to watch your showcase of course, the swordsman Belath Sunrunner walked into the faire grounds. You both clashed with nothing but pure swordplay and technique, responding with his feints with gambits of your own. For a moment, he was almost certain of his victory over you, but he underestimated how good of a swordsman you are... you were.
I struggle to remember how you moved, exactly. I've been trying to replicate the movements every time I have had the dream and each and every time I end up making a fool out of myself, tripping over myself or losing the grip on my sword due to getting an imbalanced grip. In my frustration, I want to blame the craftsman of the sword - a human - but I know better than that. There's nothing wrong with this sword, it's balanced and perfectly capable of doing everything I need it to do. I'm the problem. While I've got a long way to go before I can truly stand up and say that I have joined you as an equal, I will continue to work at it. In fact, I will make sure to train after finishing here to ensure that I get a little bit of extra in. I'm feeling better than I was earlier, so I might as well get things done while I feel up to it.
She did not speak much about herself, only that she came from Lordaeron and understood the pain of the quel'dorei unlike the humans of Stormwind. I could see the pain in her eyes and how she must have endured equally horrible experiences in the aftermath of that bastard's attacks, just as we had. Some of my kind has taken to thinking the Lordaeron people are patronizing with their attempts at empathy, as how could a human understand the emotional depth of an elf? Our art spans centuries and the allegories of our dramas recount millennia-ancient events to impart wisdom in ways that will never be lost, so how could they? I have seen it, firsthand. Humans, dwarves, and all others I have spoken to have had their hearts break listening to the tales of the elves and they shatter further upon the grief-stricken aggression from some of my kin. I can see clearly that Areia is someone that feels deep compassion and has an air of tenacity that would put many of my own people to shame. It's inspiring in ways that only you have been able to do. She seems undaunted, incapable of even beginning to fathom a day that she doesn't pick herself up off the ground and really, truly try.
If she is to be my new adventuring companion, I am blessed to have been granted a muse.
Before I forget to recount it, I had the dream again last night. You were there, standing before a crowd of people wearing your decorated armor. It's almost impossible to put into words how you looked before the crowd, sword in hand. It made me feel something that I had nearly forgotten and now I can truly put into words: safety. It reminded me of the safety I felt when I first learned of the elfgates and their protective power. With that sword in hand, you were basically a living elfgate for the people of Quel'thalas, and that is something that our people will likely not feel for a long time to come. Shortly after you spoke words of praise to the Sunstriders, present to watch your showcase of course, the swordsman Belath Sunrunner walked into the faire grounds. You both clashed with nothing but pure swordplay and technique, responding with his feints with gambits of your own. For a moment, he was almost certain of his victory over you, but he underestimated how good of a swordsman you are... you were.
I struggle to remember how you moved, exactly. I've been trying to replicate the movements every time I have had the dream and each and every time I end up making a fool out of myself, tripping over myself or losing the grip on my sword due to getting an imbalanced grip. In my frustration, I want to blame the craftsman of the sword - a human - but I know better than that. There's nothing wrong with this sword, it's balanced and perfectly capable of doing everything I need it to do. I'm the problem. While I've got a long way to go before I can truly stand up and say that I have joined you as an equal, I will continue to work at it. In fact, I will make sure to train after finishing here to ensure that I get a little bit of extra in. I'm feeling better than I was earlier, so I might as well get things done while I feel up to it.
Scribbled in the margins beside the blend of Common and Thalassian writing was a phrase of archaic elven origin and a word, minn'da.
Entry 3: Investigations of Trouble, Enhancing Magic, Elwynn Forest, 623KC:
Admittedly when I said that I had the energy to train after a long day of running around Goldshire, I should have known that I would be paying the price the next day. Even I am not immune to overestimating my stamina and what I'm capable of doing on my own. It was the first day that we truly began to work together, and I did not want to start things off by confirming the rumors that she no doubt heard of elves. If she abandons our partnership already, there's no way that someone else will wish to get stuck with someone that lost their ally after a single day. I made sure to eat a hardy breakfast, hoping that would carry me through the day, and made the excuse of visiting the smith before we left to find time to meditate. Unlike our kin, I struggle to truly find the headspace to meditate and center myself. I barely felt the trickle of magic flowing within the world itself, where others are said to be able to sustain themselves just doing that once a day. In fact, I almost felt weaker having done it and actually acknowledging the hunger inside of myself. Regardless of the lethargy, I returned to Areia who must have noticed something was amiss by my complexion being paler. Any concern she might have had was unnecessary as we set off to investigate rumors of a member of the now mostly-defunct Defias that continued to operate in Elwynn, almost as if he were a bandit lord of sorts.
The dangers of Elwynn are deep and it seems that Stormwind is too busy with other issues to take care of what is happening on their doorstep, but at least there's those like us running about actively trying to take care of these issues. The townsfolk seem to have a positive opinion of most adventurers, but some of them think of us as living off the suffering of others. It's hard to agree with them, but I try my best to move on and pay them no mind. We went south through the more dense woods, sneaking by packs of wolves and entire groups of bears that were ravaging the lakes and rivers for fish. I was surprised to find Elwynn so full of life when I had always heard that humans were tireless in their conquest of the land. So much of the region was left unspoiled and untamed. Approaching the estate, tucked away within the glades, we were immediately keen to see the number of gnolls that were standing guard. Inside the barriers, a group of humans went about busywork and trying to tend to the needs of the estate while I could see into one of the meeting rooms from atop a tree: the bandit we sought, Siward Keats, was inside. From my vantage point, I could see why he did not care to be seen or spied upon, as there were four groups of impaled corpses littering the outskirts of the property. I was warned that other adventurers had tried to claim the bounty some time before, but I did not expect to see the evils that those bandits were capable of immediately.
The disgusting creatures guarding the outskirts of the property were beginning to get suspicious of my snooping, and so we decided to fall back. Retreating deeper into the woods, Areia and I recapped on the information we gathered and were interrupted by small group of the gnolls investigating the noises they overheard. Feeling the magic that Areia was capable of for the first time, I have truly come to appreciate the powers of healing magic. The glancing blows that they made barely felt like scratches against her magic, but I could feel my stamina dropping faster each time she had to mend an injury that was more than just a nick. I fought harder than ever before and after the blur of moment came to an end, we stood surrounded by five gnoll corpses. My head was spinning and my heart threatened to burst from my chest as clumps of fur stuck to my sword. I've fought before and had to kill a creature, but this was somehow different - we both desperately fought for our lives. There was a weight to its body on my sword. This is what it truly means to take a life, to be a swordsman. I understand the gravity of some of your words better now, a weapon for war no matter how you pretty it up or dress it up in the trappings of a hero.
After catching our breath, we scouted the other angles of the property and were similarly attacked by two more groups of gnolls. I recalled talk from the marshal of Goldshire offering a small reward for gnoll ears, so we made sure to take every pair we could. As we tried to make our way back through the woods after completing our scouting, we saw some of the gnolls from inside the estate come to clean up the mess of their brethren's corpses. It made me sick to my stomach to watch them eat their fallen like that but what was even more gut-wrenching was seeing the expression on one of their faces, it almost looked sad. Today there was no choice, but perhaps in the future there will be the chance to discover if there is more to them than what we all think - humans were more than what you thought, after all.
Over dinner, Areia explained to me how some of her spellcraft works and the concept of her magic, specifically something called a Power Word. Showcasing the ability, I could feel my willpower come back to me, almost as if I had only worked half a day rather than the full amount. It was a mistake to show me this power, as I immediately stopped listening to everything else she had to say while my mind swam with the need to go and train right then and there. I did my best to interrupt her, gently, before making the excuse to go and see to my training. I left before she could truly finish explaining to me the way it works, and as I was working through my sets I could feel my energy leave all at once as the magic left me. It was the same sensation as the Sunwell, but more personal and now left me feeling the pangs of that hunger even worse. I felt so strong in that moment, you have to understand. It was intoxicating and now I have to be mindful of that, just the same. I cannot allow myself to be taken in by false means of power - I can rely on Areia as a partner, not a crutch. I must not become too comfortable in her magic. That's what you did, isn't it? Where all others would have rather taken to magic over might, you took to might and honed your sword arm to peerless ability.
That's what I'll do, as well.
The dangers of Elwynn are deep and it seems that Stormwind is too busy with other issues to take care of what is happening on their doorstep, but at least there's those like us running about actively trying to take care of these issues. The townsfolk seem to have a positive opinion of most adventurers, but some of them think of us as living off the suffering of others. It's hard to agree with them, but I try my best to move on and pay them no mind. We went south through the more dense woods, sneaking by packs of wolves and entire groups of bears that were ravaging the lakes and rivers for fish. I was surprised to find Elwynn so full of life when I had always heard that humans were tireless in their conquest of the land. So much of the region was left unspoiled and untamed. Approaching the estate, tucked away within the glades, we were immediately keen to see the number of gnolls that were standing guard. Inside the barriers, a group of humans went about busywork and trying to tend to the needs of the estate while I could see into one of the meeting rooms from atop a tree: the bandit we sought, Siward Keats, was inside. From my vantage point, I could see why he did not care to be seen or spied upon, as there were four groups of impaled corpses littering the outskirts of the property. I was warned that other adventurers had tried to claim the bounty some time before, but I did not expect to see the evils that those bandits were capable of immediately.
The disgusting creatures guarding the outskirts of the property were beginning to get suspicious of my snooping, and so we decided to fall back. Retreating deeper into the woods, Areia and I recapped on the information we gathered and were interrupted by small group of the gnolls investigating the noises they overheard. Feeling the magic that Areia was capable of for the first time, I have truly come to appreciate the powers of healing magic. The glancing blows that they made barely felt like scratches against her magic, but I could feel my stamina dropping faster each time she had to mend an injury that was more than just a nick. I fought harder than ever before and after the blur of moment came to an end, we stood surrounded by five gnoll corpses. My head was spinning and my heart threatened to burst from my chest as clumps of fur stuck to my sword. I've fought before and had to kill a creature, but this was somehow different - we both desperately fought for our lives. There was a weight to its body on my sword. This is what it truly means to take a life, to be a swordsman. I understand the gravity of some of your words better now, a weapon for war no matter how you pretty it up or dress it up in the trappings of a hero.
After catching our breath, we scouted the other angles of the property and were similarly attacked by two more groups of gnolls. I recalled talk from the marshal of Goldshire offering a small reward for gnoll ears, so we made sure to take every pair we could. As we tried to make our way back through the woods after completing our scouting, we saw some of the gnolls from inside the estate come to clean up the mess of their brethren's corpses. It made me sick to my stomach to watch them eat their fallen like that but what was even more gut-wrenching was seeing the expression on one of their faces, it almost looked sad. Today there was no choice, but perhaps in the future there will be the chance to discover if there is more to them than what we all think - humans were more than what you thought, after all.
Over dinner, Areia explained to me how some of her spellcraft works and the concept of her magic, specifically something called a Power Word. Showcasing the ability, I could feel my willpower come back to me, almost as if I had only worked half a day rather than the full amount. It was a mistake to show me this power, as I immediately stopped listening to everything else she had to say while my mind swam with the need to go and train right then and there. I did my best to interrupt her, gently, before making the excuse to go and see to my training. I left before she could truly finish explaining to me the way it works, and as I was working through my sets I could feel my energy leave all at once as the magic left me. It was the same sensation as the Sunwell, but more personal and now left me feeling the pangs of that hunger even worse. I felt so strong in that moment, you have to understand. It was intoxicating and now I have to be mindful of that, just the same. I cannot allow myself to be taken in by false means of power - I can rely on Areia as a partner, not a crutch. I must not become too comfortable in her magic. That's what you did, isn't it? Where all others would have rather taken to magic over might, you took to might and honed your sword arm to peerless ability.
That's what I'll do, as well.
A traveling mage stopped by Goldshire last night and used their magic to make an etching of how they remembered Quel'thalas. I will treasure this dearly.
Entry 4: Of Drool and Deeper Understanding, Elwynn Forest 623 KC:
After yesterday's successful scouting run was reported to the local marshal, Dughan, we decided to try and look into the rampaging gnoll problem. I was told that the Redpaw gnolls were always a problem in Elwynn, but never like this. The Defias supposedly taught the leaders of the Redpaw the means to using magic and tactics to add to their brutal combat expertise. Southwest of Goldshire, the farmsteads were reporting several instances of their crops being raided by the gnolls - curiously, they did not report any casualties or abducted livestock. I will not slay a creature simply for being hungry and taking food, but I will investigate the issue regardless and see if there's not something we can do to prevent this from happening in the future. There are those that nothing can be done for, and then there's those that are causing conflict because of a greater pain to them than the threat of response from those they hurt. It's important to try and see the difference between those two and act accordingly, something that the Farstriders of Quel'thalas always strove to embody. When King Anasterian recalled the legendary Alleria from the front-lines, her honor dictated that she remain. When death itself approached the Sunwell and blotted out all hope, you did not buckle.
So long as I can hold onto these things, your legacy lives on in me.
When we attempted to sneak toward the Redpaw encampments, we stumbled into more than we expected in seeing a group of bandits meeting with the gnolls. They were conversing in Common, not a broken language of growls and barks, but actual language without issue and responding to the insight of the bandits. After our encounters yesterday, I asked some of the older guardsmen in town if they had ever heard of a "good" gnoll, and several outright laughed at me, but one of them told me that there used to be a mercenary that came through with a gnoll ally. He said the rowdy beastman was rough around the edges, but fiercely loyal to his companions. That only further proved my thought: there's more to them than what most of Stormwind thinks, just like there's more to Stormwind than most of Quel'thalas thinks. We did not get to snoop as long as I would have liked, they were beginning to talk of a Redpaw den somewhere to the north where they were intending on moving something. I've been thinking of potentially checking that out in the next few days, definitely once I recover from the battles today.
They overheard my attempt to get a little closer, to better overhear them. These gnolls were stronger than those that I fought yesterday, definitely taking to the lessons they were being given. I was nearly disarmed by one of the gnolls and while I recovered my balance, he went in to try and take off my entire arm. Due to Areia's quick thinking, her spellcraft conjured a shield of magic around me that prevented its attack. I did not want to engage them head on, but there was very little chance we could fall back to any meaningful ground and so I held my footing and did everything I could to fight like hell. When one of the gnolls did manage to bite me, a really good one on the chest, I felt Areia's magic dampened while its gush of saliva coated my wound, stinging like hell. I later came to find out that they have toxic spit, that acts corrosively to healing magic, preventing it from taking effect as much as it normally would. After managing to fight off the group of gnolls while the bandits fled, I was too angry to see reason. Flush with adrenaline and wanting to prove... SOMETHING... we made a direct course across the forest and didn't arrive to our destination until the sun was already beginning to set.
Stubborn as I was and emboldened by Areia's own tenacity, we made an attempt to fight our way into the Redpaw Den on a crusade for something we didn't know. It sounds silly, but we knew they were up to something and any small headway we could make would be all the difference. Packed to the brim with gnolls, the den was not the place I wanted to be and it nearly cost us our lives. As I'm writing this now, I can only really use my right arm for this and nothing more. Even holding the pen hurts and I've had to take two breaks to finish this, but I wanted to make sure you knew about everything that happened before I forget. We fought our way into the cave and found nothing that the farmers were describing, but instead found crates of weapons that were being brought to the Redpaw. Something that was always said about the gnolls' attacks were that they are uncoordinated and lacking in equipment. With both of those things and the leadership of a shrewd, evil mind at their head I actually fear for what could happen. While fighting off the gnolls, we did our best to gather as much of the equipment as possible, only to see that it was of Stormwind make.
In the middle of all the chaos, we found a gnoll that was taken prisoner by the Redpaw. He explained that he was fleeing the enslavement his tribe faced in Redridge and didn't want to take part in whatever the Redpaw were doing. He even offered to aid us in our endeavors against them. This was my chance to prove whether or not they were creatures or they were people, if I was right about them - that they are just as humans were to me. Releasing the gnoll known as Grimcackle, he aided us in gathering up more of the equipment and fleeing from the den before night completely fell on Elwynn. We managed to return to Goldshire just as the guardsmen were getting ready to do a shift change and explained everything to their captain, as well as handing over Grimcackle to their care since he promised to help their investigation.
Exhausted, injured, and my equipment in shambles, here I am now writing to you. Areia has already treated most of my injuries once and told me that she will return throughout the night to do more.
I will live up to your name, just wait.
So long as I can hold onto these things, your legacy lives on in me.
When we attempted to sneak toward the Redpaw encampments, we stumbled into more than we expected in seeing a group of bandits meeting with the gnolls. They were conversing in Common, not a broken language of growls and barks, but actual language without issue and responding to the insight of the bandits. After our encounters yesterday, I asked some of the older guardsmen in town if they had ever heard of a "good" gnoll, and several outright laughed at me, but one of them told me that there used to be a mercenary that came through with a gnoll ally. He said the rowdy beastman was rough around the edges, but fiercely loyal to his companions. That only further proved my thought: there's more to them than what most of Stormwind thinks, just like there's more to Stormwind than most of Quel'thalas thinks. We did not get to snoop as long as I would have liked, they were beginning to talk of a Redpaw den somewhere to the north where they were intending on moving something. I've been thinking of potentially checking that out in the next few days, definitely once I recover from the battles today.
They overheard my attempt to get a little closer, to better overhear them. These gnolls were stronger than those that I fought yesterday, definitely taking to the lessons they were being given. I was nearly disarmed by one of the gnolls and while I recovered my balance, he went in to try and take off my entire arm. Due to Areia's quick thinking, her spellcraft conjured a shield of magic around me that prevented its attack. I did not want to engage them head on, but there was very little chance we could fall back to any meaningful ground and so I held my footing and did everything I could to fight like hell. When one of the gnolls did manage to bite me, a really good one on the chest, I felt Areia's magic dampened while its gush of saliva coated my wound, stinging like hell. I later came to find out that they have toxic spit, that acts corrosively to healing magic, preventing it from taking effect as much as it normally would. After managing to fight off the group of gnolls while the bandits fled, I was too angry to see reason. Flush with adrenaline and wanting to prove... SOMETHING... we made a direct course across the forest and didn't arrive to our destination until the sun was already beginning to set.
Stubborn as I was and emboldened by Areia's own tenacity, we made an attempt to fight our way into the Redpaw Den on a crusade for something we didn't know. It sounds silly, but we knew they were up to something and any small headway we could make would be all the difference. Packed to the brim with gnolls, the den was not the place I wanted to be and it nearly cost us our lives. As I'm writing this now, I can only really use my right arm for this and nothing more. Even holding the pen hurts and I've had to take two breaks to finish this, but I wanted to make sure you knew about everything that happened before I forget. We fought our way into the cave and found nothing that the farmers were describing, but instead found crates of weapons that were being brought to the Redpaw. Something that was always said about the gnolls' attacks were that they are uncoordinated and lacking in equipment. With both of those things and the leadership of a shrewd, evil mind at their head I actually fear for what could happen. While fighting off the gnolls, we did our best to gather as much of the equipment as possible, only to see that it was of Stormwind make.
In the middle of all the chaos, we found a gnoll that was taken prisoner by the Redpaw. He explained that he was fleeing the enslavement his tribe faced in Redridge and didn't want to take part in whatever the Redpaw were doing. He even offered to aid us in our endeavors against them. This was my chance to prove whether or not they were creatures or they were people, if I was right about them - that they are just as humans were to me. Releasing the gnoll known as Grimcackle, he aided us in gathering up more of the equipment and fleeing from the den before night completely fell on Elwynn. We managed to return to Goldshire just as the guardsmen were getting ready to do a shift change and explained everything to their captain, as well as handing over Grimcackle to their care since he promised to help their investigation.
Exhausted, injured, and my equipment in shambles, here I am now writing to you. Areia has already treated most of my injuries once and told me that she will return throughout the night to do more.
I will live up to your name, just wait.
Entry 5: Rest and Realizations, Elwynn Forest 623KC:
It's been three days since I've had the chance to write, but so much has happened while I recovered. Yes, I did take the time to recover, but that doesn't mean that nothing went on.
During the first day of recovery, Areia came to visit my room several times to take care of my injuries with her magic, treat them with various potions and elixirs, and to ensure that I was actually doing well. She told me she could tell I was overdoing it, and struggling with something but she wasn't able to tell quite what it was through the use of her magic. She speculated that it might be something to do with the elves' magic, but she didn't speak certainly. Shrewd. It appears I am just as good at subtlety as you are. We had the chance to really get to know one another and talk. I listened to her attempts to empathize about her home, Lordaeron, and how our experiences truly did mirror one another closely, including the desperate flight from the undead-infested hells they became. Unlike me, however, she didn't think twice about joining up with what is known the Scarlet Crusade to help as many people as she could. There she learned from some of the brightest clerics in the seven kingdoms and has since had the opportunity to study in Northshire Abbey, the home of the brave heroes that strode into battle to sustain pyrrhic losses again and again but remained undaunted. This is the measure of her mettle: not a human girl, but a brave cleric unshackled by the grief of loss. I see why the humans turn to the Holy Light in droves looking upon her, she's as inspiring as you were to me.
She explained to me the story of the Scarlet Crusade growing dark and the splinter that became known as the Argent Dawn. She was later sent here to Stormwind to help seek out potential recruits to send north to Lordaeron, to stem the tide against the Scourge. She told me that when she saw my flyer posted up, she knew that she had to come and seek me out and that ever since doing so, her suspicions have only been confirmed. She went on to say that she left a letter for the liasion and didn't wait a response before leaving Stormwind and traveling to Goldshire. Throughout the course of the day, we got to know one another beyond just the trust necessary to fight side-by-side and truly talked with each other. I hope that I managed to make her feel listened to, the same way that she made me feel.
Over the course of the two days after that, I made every excuse to spend time in the forge again, and I'm sure that Andrew and the Steeles were overjoyed to have the company. I had to take several breaks as I am still recovering, but I did what I could to repair what was left of my armor. Working in these forges and watching all of them get on well with one another makes me miss home in a different way, I haven't even thought of the Dawnseeker Forges since I was on that cart. I must have truly not been paying attention, as when I next went back to work on my chainmail, Andrew came up to me laughing. They all started making fun of the pathetic piece of metal I was working on and yanked it from my hands, telling me to hobble back to my room. They said that by the time I was fully recovered, they'd have a breastplate made for me for all the good work I've done around the town. Unexpected, but I accepted their offer and started to make my way back to Lion's Pride before getting distracted by thoughts of Grimcackle.
Making the excuse to stop by the guard house, I found that the gnoll hadn't been overly compliant with helping their investigation. Obviously, I think he means to ensure his own safety before doing so. In speaking with him alone while the guards continued to bicker, I told Grimcackle that I would see what I could do for him but that he would have to help me. Bringing the information to the guardsmen only infuriated them further, as they fully expected Grimcackle to give up everything he had and expect nothing after they threw him in a cell. It appears there's no love lost between the two and even though there are more to gnolls, I don't know that humans would be able to try. Let alone the difficulty of figuring out what plagues them so much. Perhaps it is as simple as the problems that they brought to the farmsteads south - a lack of food. This speculation, though, is going to help no one.
I intend to go and visit Grim again in the next couple days. Perhaps there will be a new development soon.
During the first day of recovery, Areia came to visit my room several times to take care of my injuries with her magic, treat them with various potions and elixirs, and to ensure that I was actually doing well. She told me she could tell I was overdoing it, and struggling with something but she wasn't able to tell quite what it was through the use of her magic. She speculated that it might be something to do with the elves' magic, but she didn't speak certainly. Shrewd. It appears I am just as good at subtlety as you are. We had the chance to really get to know one another and talk. I listened to her attempts to empathize about her home, Lordaeron, and how our experiences truly did mirror one another closely, including the desperate flight from the undead-infested hells they became. Unlike me, however, she didn't think twice about joining up with what is known the Scarlet Crusade to help as many people as she could. There she learned from some of the brightest clerics in the seven kingdoms and has since had the opportunity to study in Northshire Abbey, the home of the brave heroes that strode into battle to sustain pyrrhic losses again and again but remained undaunted. This is the measure of her mettle: not a human girl, but a brave cleric unshackled by the grief of loss. I see why the humans turn to the Holy Light in droves looking upon her, she's as inspiring as you were to me.
She explained to me the story of the Scarlet Crusade growing dark and the splinter that became known as the Argent Dawn. She was later sent here to Stormwind to help seek out potential recruits to send north to Lordaeron, to stem the tide against the Scourge. She told me that when she saw my flyer posted up, she knew that she had to come and seek me out and that ever since doing so, her suspicions have only been confirmed. She went on to say that she left a letter for the liasion and didn't wait a response before leaving Stormwind and traveling to Goldshire. Throughout the course of the day, we got to know one another beyond just the trust necessary to fight side-by-side and truly talked with each other. I hope that I managed to make her feel listened to, the same way that she made me feel.
Over the course of the two days after that, I made every excuse to spend time in the forge again, and I'm sure that Andrew and the Steeles were overjoyed to have the company. I had to take several breaks as I am still recovering, but I did what I could to repair what was left of my armor. Working in these forges and watching all of them get on well with one another makes me miss home in a different way, I haven't even thought of the Dawnseeker Forges since I was on that cart. I must have truly not been paying attention, as when I next went back to work on my chainmail, Andrew came up to me laughing. They all started making fun of the pathetic piece of metal I was working on and yanked it from my hands, telling me to hobble back to my room. They said that by the time I was fully recovered, they'd have a breastplate made for me for all the good work I've done around the town. Unexpected, but I accepted their offer and started to make my way back to Lion's Pride before getting distracted by thoughts of Grimcackle.
Making the excuse to stop by the guard house, I found that the gnoll hadn't been overly compliant with helping their investigation. Obviously, I think he means to ensure his own safety before doing so. In speaking with him alone while the guards continued to bicker, I told Grimcackle that I would see what I could do for him but that he would have to help me. Bringing the information to the guardsmen only infuriated them further, as they fully expected Grimcackle to give up everything he had and expect nothing after they threw him in a cell. It appears there's no love lost between the two and even though there are more to gnolls, I don't know that humans would be able to try. Let alone the difficulty of figuring out what plagues them so much. Perhaps it is as simple as the problems that they brought to the farmsteads south - a lack of food. This speculation, though, is going to help no one.
I intend to go and visit Grim again in the next couple days. Perhaps there will be a new development soon.
In the margins between the two entries, Firion has crudely drawn several images of Grimcackle and Areia. The images of Grimcackle showcase his jovial nature, quickness to laugh, and an outrageously large grin that bordered on cartoonish - this was a result of Firion's very poor skills as an artist. As for Areia, she was no less atrocious by his own artistic abilities but he spent an awful long time doodling her bust in great detail.
Entry 6: A Hunger Made Manifest, Freedom from Capture, Elwynn Forest 623KC:
My recovery with the help of Areia's magic has been going smoothly. It's been four days since we delved into the Redpaw Den in northern Elwynn and I can barely feel the bruises that cover my body anymore. I hope that was believable. What strength I have, I've been trying to spend in the forge with Andrew and the Steeles, while Areia works on stocking up on brewing potions and has journeyed to Stormwind briefly to speak with the Argent Dawn liaison. She has gone to quit the Dawn, should they have an issue with her choices, but I get the feeling that there is more to the story between her and the liaison. She has never spoken of anyone else with so much poison in her voice, other than the few times she speaks of specific members of the Scarlet Crusade or the traitor. While working away in the forge, my mind drifted to my father. It's been a while since I thought of him. He was on the path to becoming one of the greatest weaponsmiths Quel'thalas has ever known, perhaps even on par with those that forged your sword. When we spent hours refining mithril bars, he would talk about how he's spent hours studying the process of weaving magic and metal together as a cohesive unit. Not an enchantment, he'd always say, but a marriage between the two components. He claimed that he would one day either find a way to improve upon the design of the Sunstrider's mighty Flamestrike, or forge a blade to rival it.
Unfortunately things are not always so simple. It seems there are more things that I should try my hand at, than just swordplay - could I be as good of a smith as my father? I owe it to him to try, since his dream was stolen from him.
While working on helping Corina with an order of sharpening stones for the guard house, I felt the rush that I've heard other elves talk about before they pass out. I didn't even consciously realize what had happened at first, but once my senses stopped buzzing I knew exactly what had happened. My throat went tight, dry, and scratchy all at the same time as my vision narrowed in on a crystal that was being showed to Andrew across the forge. It was so loud, staring at it. I could hear the magic inside of it buzzing, thrumming, taunting me. Every fiber of my being wanted to lunge for the small crystal and drain it of every ounce of power it contained, rush off into the forest and hide my shame from them. The sound, you wouldn't believe it, but it sounded like the waves of Quel'danas. Do you remember when you taught me how to swim and told me that I could go on to become a peerless navy captain for as strong of a swimmer as I was? I've never even been on a boat before, we never got the chance to do that. Come to think of it. There's a lot of things like that, that I'll have to do without you.
Letting go, thinking of the past is what did me in. I felt my grief swallow me up and everything went black, but that was a blessing in disguise. I could feel my willpower breaking and if I hadn't passed out, I don't know if I would have been able to control myself. I was grateful for this weakness, for once. I really hit my head on the ground when I passed out, and they offered to escort me back to Lion's Pride, but I had made enough of an embarrassment of myself for one day with all of them. Dizzy as I was, I did not go straight back to the tavern but instead made a small stop by the guard house. I really must have hit my head, because I marched straight up to the guard captain and bargained for Grim's freedom. I explained that we would take him into our care and use the information he had to root out Siward Keats and put an end to the problem once and for all. Under threat of joining Grim in the cells, the guard captain warned me not to make him forget his decision to trust me.
Heading back to Lion's Pride with Grim, we waited for Areia to return from her work and let our new companion explain everything he knew. He spoke of a meeting that was going to be taking place soon, in the next two days. Siward keeps a punctual meeting with the gnolls to keep them in a routine and under better control and more focused specifically upon his own goals. Since the death of Hogger, several Redpaw Gnoll chieftains had arisen and were wreaking havoc within their own ranks to which Siward intended to solve by appointing a new over-chieftain and enforcing their rule. Grim was right, this would be a perfect opportunity to take care of everything at once and prevent them from getting any further along in their goals. Shocked as I am to say it, gnolls appear to have the depth of craftiness innately within them.
Unfortunately things are not always so simple. It seems there are more things that I should try my hand at, than just swordplay - could I be as good of a smith as my father? I owe it to him to try, since his dream was stolen from him.
While working on helping Corina with an order of sharpening stones for the guard house, I felt the rush that I've heard other elves talk about before they pass out. I didn't even consciously realize what had happened at first, but once my senses stopped buzzing I knew exactly what had happened. My throat went tight, dry, and scratchy all at the same time as my vision narrowed in on a crystal that was being showed to Andrew across the forge. It was so loud, staring at it. I could hear the magic inside of it buzzing, thrumming, taunting me. Every fiber of my being wanted to lunge for the small crystal and drain it of every ounce of power it contained, rush off into the forest and hide my shame from them. The sound, you wouldn't believe it, but it sounded like the waves of Quel'danas. Do you remember when you taught me how to swim and told me that I could go on to become a peerless navy captain for as strong of a swimmer as I was? I've never even been on a boat before, we never got the chance to do that. Come to think of it. There's a lot of things like that, that I'll have to do without you.
Letting go, thinking of the past is what did me in. I felt my grief swallow me up and everything went black, but that was a blessing in disguise. I could feel my willpower breaking and if I hadn't passed out, I don't know if I would have been able to control myself. I was grateful for this weakness, for once. I really hit my head on the ground when I passed out, and they offered to escort me back to Lion's Pride, but I had made enough of an embarrassment of myself for one day with all of them. Dizzy as I was, I did not go straight back to the tavern but instead made a small stop by the guard house. I really must have hit my head, because I marched straight up to the guard captain and bargained for Grim's freedom. I explained that we would take him into our care and use the information he had to root out Siward Keats and put an end to the problem once and for all. Under threat of joining Grim in the cells, the guard captain warned me not to make him forget his decision to trust me.
Heading back to Lion's Pride with Grim, we waited for Areia to return from her work and let our new companion explain everything he knew. He spoke of a meeting that was going to be taking place soon, in the next two days. Siward keeps a punctual meeting with the gnolls to keep them in a routine and under better control and more focused specifically upon his own goals. Since the death of Hogger, several Redpaw Gnoll chieftains had arisen and were wreaking havoc within their own ranks to which Siward intended to solve by appointing a new over-chieftain and enforcing their rule. Grim was right, this would be a perfect opportunity to take care of everything at once and prevent them from getting any further along in their goals. Shocked as I am to say it, gnolls appear to have the depth of craftiness innately within them.
Entry 7: Dawnseekers v. Wannabe Bandit Lord, Elwynn Forest 623KC:
With Areia's help, I was able to recover from my injuries after the fifth night of rest. On the start of the fifth day, I began doing everything in my power to hone my skills with those that either passed through Goldshire, worked with Grim to develop a sense of camaraderie in combat, and tried once again to mimic some of your moves. I'm still too clumsy and off-balance whenever I try. Feeling back up to full capacity again, I know that I overdid it the first day but there was so little time to prepare for the battle against Siward Keats that it meant now was the time to push through and try to break whatever was holding me back. By midday on the fifth day, Andrew had finished work on my breastplate and brought it to me. It was good, because the weight of the metal was heavier than I was used to and it gave me the opportunity to get used to the feel. I needed to wear additional padding, but it didn't take me long to get used to it. Just the same, he provided me with a new shield to go along with the breastplate. Larger but somehow less cumbersome, the heater shield would serve me well in the upcoming fight. To test the strength of the shield, I worked with Grim - outfitted with a crossbow - to test my reflexes. It didn't matter if he actually ended up shooting me, if I can't block something from my ally not trying to kill me, then how can I block something that is? We stayed out there for hours working and it wasn't until later on in the afternoon that he started to open up more and speak more casually with me. Grim let me know of a secret about the gnolls' toxic spit: it worked on each other and was necessary for inter-clan warfare. Knowing this, while I still think it's absolutely disgusting, I allowed him to coat my sword in his saliva before we engaged Siward. While I don't know exactly how effective it was in the long run, I think it did the job.
Outfitted with a new breastplate and shield, carrying a small inventory of potions, and now with the addition of our new ally Grimcackle - we were as ready for the battle as we ever would be. On the morning of the meeting, I made sure to eat as good of a meal as I possibly could. Perhaps it shows a bit of cowardice, but knowing that it could've been my last meal made me appreciate it a whole lot more. It truly was the best pancakes, eggs, and sausage I've ever had in my life. With Grim having to stay in my room, Areia and I unfortunately didn't have the chance to enjoy one another's company as we have started, but she did make the excuse to join me in the bath. I think we both had the same idea that if this was to be our final chance at respite, we might as well enjoy it to the fullest.
Heading out into the forests, Grim led the way and showed us all manner of ways to track and discern information about gnolls based on their tracks. He explained the way we could even discern information from the footprints of humans and other "city people." I listened intently to everything that he had to say and tried to absorb what he knew, and I'm sure it won't be long before I find myself grateful for what he had to impart. As we approached the meeting spot, Grim showed us how to properly camouflage ourselves in the brush, as opposed to what we previously had been doing: stomping around out in the open in clanking, broken chainmail. We waited for a while and saw the approach of the Redpaw Gnolls first, including the soon-to-be chieftain, Riverspear. His guardians fanned out around the area and investigated their surroundings, but Grim's ability at camouflaging us proved to be superior to their skills of perception. They dropped their guard and awaited for Siward Keats' arrival.
After some time, the human and his entourage arrived carrying crates of supplies while he carried several ornate books with ripped bindings. When we later investigated them, they turned out to be spell tomes with what looked to be the most useful spells that could have possibly been turned against him ripped from their bindings. Coward. After they transferred the goods to the gnolls, it appeared that Riverspear sent several of his own group away to take the resources to safety. Lowering their guards and beginning to speak of future endeavors - whispers of a mage that was holed up in the Deadmines? - and their next meeting, I figured that it was going to be the best time to strike. With a small nod to Areia and Grim, I leapt from our hiding place and rushed down Siward with a fury that overtook me like no other. I felt angry at all the pain and suffering he was inflicting on the people of Elwynn. It burned in my veins like a poison and I gave into it. My sword started to feel like an extension of my own arm and each strike with my weapon felt good, and it frightened me. I stepped back from what felt like an edge I could have walked off of and centered myself. In the middle of battle with two of his guardsmen already fallen, I refocused myself on winning. There is no way that I could live up to your legacy, to become one of the greatest swordsmen in Azeroth if I fell to these bandits.
The fight was long and bloody, requiring us to chase them down and fall back several times, but we accomplished our goal. Even with the preparation work done by Grim, we wouldn't have been able to take them down without Areia's magic. In a bout of desperation, I tried to use your technique against them and failed miserably. Siward was able to disarm me in that moment and I thought my life was over before once again being saved by Areia's shielding magic. I've done my house shame, but I cannot let that stop me. This shame that I will endure, the failures that I will struggle through are nothing compared to the pain that you went through. As the fight went on, I could feel my strength beginning to fade as the lethargy set back in. I have been neglecting meditation in the past days and I paid the price for it. Pushing through the fog that was closing in around me, I remember thinking of how far away I was from my goal. Here in Elwynn, so very far from the Sunwell - so far from where I need to fight my way to. Dying here was not an option for me, you know that. I rolled toward my sword and made a reckless attack at the bandit that put him on his back. I saw the conviction burning in his eyes when he grabbed hold of my blade and cursed Stormwind through his teeth. I wished to bring him in alive, so he could answer for his crimes to the people he hurt, so they could get some kind of closure. He impaled himself upon my sword, refusing to surrender. Those of his men that remained and saw his so-called honorable sacrifice surrendered to us and allowed themselves to be taken back to Goldshire.
When we returned to Marshal Dughan with nearly a dozen bandits shackled with ropes, he provided the reward for all that we accomplished: claiming Siward Keats' bounty and the bounty for several lesser crooks under him. We did not manage to engage with Riverspear, fleeing from the battle once the opportunity presented itself. That's a concern for another time, or perhaps another someone. We've all earned our rest this evening, and I'm going to have to make time more often to meditate than just focusing on training. Some of the townsfolk have begun to recognize Grim as his own person, and not just a gnoll, so I haven't had to keep such a close of an eye on him as I did before but I think we're already starting to wear out our welcome with some of the locals.
I'm still curious about what they had been muttering about before we engaged them. A mage in the abandoned Deadmines.
Outfitted with a new breastplate and shield, carrying a small inventory of potions, and now with the addition of our new ally Grimcackle - we were as ready for the battle as we ever would be. On the morning of the meeting, I made sure to eat as good of a meal as I possibly could. Perhaps it shows a bit of cowardice, but knowing that it could've been my last meal made me appreciate it a whole lot more. It truly was the best pancakes, eggs, and sausage I've ever had in my life. With Grim having to stay in my room, Areia and I unfortunately didn't have the chance to enjoy one another's company as we have started, but she did make the excuse to join me in the bath. I think we both had the same idea that if this was to be our final chance at respite, we might as well enjoy it to the fullest.
Heading out into the forests, Grim led the way and showed us all manner of ways to track and discern information about gnolls based on their tracks. He explained the way we could even discern information from the footprints of humans and other "city people." I listened intently to everything that he had to say and tried to absorb what he knew, and I'm sure it won't be long before I find myself grateful for what he had to impart. As we approached the meeting spot, Grim showed us how to properly camouflage ourselves in the brush, as opposed to what we previously had been doing: stomping around out in the open in clanking, broken chainmail. We waited for a while and saw the approach of the Redpaw Gnolls first, including the soon-to-be chieftain, Riverspear. His guardians fanned out around the area and investigated their surroundings, but Grim's ability at camouflaging us proved to be superior to their skills of perception. They dropped their guard and awaited for Siward Keats' arrival.
After some time, the human and his entourage arrived carrying crates of supplies while he carried several ornate books with ripped bindings. When we later investigated them, they turned out to be spell tomes with what looked to be the most useful spells that could have possibly been turned against him ripped from their bindings. Coward. After they transferred the goods to the gnolls, it appeared that Riverspear sent several of his own group away to take the resources to safety. Lowering their guards and beginning to speak of future endeavors - whispers of a mage that was holed up in the Deadmines? - and their next meeting, I figured that it was going to be the best time to strike. With a small nod to Areia and Grim, I leapt from our hiding place and rushed down Siward with a fury that overtook me like no other. I felt angry at all the pain and suffering he was inflicting on the people of Elwynn. It burned in my veins like a poison and I gave into it. My sword started to feel like an extension of my own arm and each strike with my weapon felt good, and it frightened me. I stepped back from what felt like an edge I could have walked off of and centered myself. In the middle of battle with two of his guardsmen already fallen, I refocused myself on winning. There is no way that I could live up to your legacy, to become one of the greatest swordsmen in Azeroth if I fell to these bandits.
The fight was long and bloody, requiring us to chase them down and fall back several times, but we accomplished our goal. Even with the preparation work done by Grim, we wouldn't have been able to take them down without Areia's magic. In a bout of desperation, I tried to use your technique against them and failed miserably. Siward was able to disarm me in that moment and I thought my life was over before once again being saved by Areia's shielding magic. I've done my house shame, but I cannot let that stop me. This shame that I will endure, the failures that I will struggle through are nothing compared to the pain that you went through. As the fight went on, I could feel my strength beginning to fade as the lethargy set back in. I have been neglecting meditation in the past days and I paid the price for it. Pushing through the fog that was closing in around me, I remember thinking of how far away I was from my goal. Here in Elwynn, so very far from the Sunwell - so far from where I need to fight my way to. Dying here was not an option for me, you know that. I rolled toward my sword and made a reckless attack at the bandit that put him on his back. I saw the conviction burning in his eyes when he grabbed hold of my blade and cursed Stormwind through his teeth. I wished to bring him in alive, so he could answer for his crimes to the people he hurt, so they could get some kind of closure. He impaled himself upon my sword, refusing to surrender. Those of his men that remained and saw his so-called honorable sacrifice surrendered to us and allowed themselves to be taken back to Goldshire.
When we returned to Marshal Dughan with nearly a dozen bandits shackled with ropes, he provided the reward for all that we accomplished: claiming Siward Keats' bounty and the bounty for several lesser crooks under him. We did not manage to engage with Riverspear, fleeing from the battle once the opportunity presented itself. That's a concern for another time, or perhaps another someone. We've all earned our rest this evening, and I'm going to have to make time more often to meditate than just focusing on training. Some of the townsfolk have begun to recognize Grim as his own person, and not just a gnoll, so I haven't had to keep such a close of an eye on him as I did before but I think we're already starting to wear out our welcome with some of the locals.
I'm still curious about what they had been muttering about before we engaged them. A mage in the abandoned Deadmines.
Slowly turtling my way up.
